Fall Away
by carissima
Summary: She finds another note. It keeps her going, when everything else makes no sense. SeanEmma.


Another note. She smiles as she lets her fingers run over the rough paper, knowing that she'll find her name scrawled across the top, written so illegibly that it takes a knowing eye to read. She takes in the jagged edges, ripped haphazardly from its source, and smiles, because she appreciates the metaphor.

She hesitates, wanting to savour the warm feeling she gets when she finds a note. From him. It doesn't matter what it says. It never has. Regular as clockwork, she finds a note every few months. She's not entirely sure how he's managed it, especially when he's a few hundred miles away, but that's not important. It never has been. All that matters is that he remembered. He remembers.

A smile curves her lips as she walks over to her bed, and pulls out the box she keeps hidden underneath. It's full of similar notes, scraps really, a kind of journal for her to keep. She'd never admit it, but sometimes, when it's late at night and Manny's fast asleep, when it's completely dark and she feels so alone, she reaches under the bed and picks a random note, torn from a notebook and reads the hastily scribbled thought he's written down, just for her. And for a moment, a brief second out of time, she can forget the life that suffocates her and she can breathe again.

Letting her fingers leaf through the notes, some turning slightly yellow with age, she finally unfolds the note with her other hand. Her smile softens as she reads his anecdote about how he picks up empty cans whenever he finds them on the beach, because he imagines her on his shoulder, a disapproving look on her face whenever he tries to pretend he doesn't see it. It's an old habit, he writes, but it's a habit he can't seem to shake.

Laughter escapes her throat, a sound so unfamiliar to her these days that she can't help the jolt of surprise that follows it. She tucks it away in the middle of the box. Unable to resist, she lets her fingers find the note she treasures most above all others. It's easy to find, as it's more worn than the rest, and it's on the smoothest paper. There are no jagged edges on this one, no signs of a hurried tear from a notepad. There are only two words on this note. He'd left it for her a few months after the day he'd left. Simple words, simple sentiments. _Miss you._

She remembers how her hands had trembled the first time she'd read those words. So simple, but they'd affected her more than anything else she'd heard, or been told, in a long time.

She has no idea if he sends these notes to anyone else. She has no idea how they end up slipped under her bedroom window. She has no idea why he sends the notes. Apart from that one, single emotional note, every other has been a random thought, a story, a memory.

Footsteps warn her that Manny is on her way down. The box gets thrown under the bed, and she grabs her purse, makes an excuse, and leaves the suffocating basement.

* * *

She spends hours sitting in the park, watching people walk by. It's one of her favourite things to do. It reminds her that not everyone walks through life, feeling only half-alive. She needs that reminder.

She knows she's meant to be home for dinner, but she can't bring herself to leave. She knows she's clinging to something she can't have, but she can't let go. It's only when the temperature drops and she starts to shiver that she gives in and heads home. She murmurs a brief greeting to her family before heading downstairs. She ignores their worried glances, she knows it's the third meal she's missed this week, but it's not the food she's avoiding.

Her glance falls on the window, even though she knows there won't be another for a few months, and wishes that she could catch him leaving the note, so she could see him, even if only for a few minutes. She jumps as her cell rings, but she ignores the call. There's only one person she wants to speak to, and he's not here. Not anymore.

* * *

She's had four notes in the past two weeks. She knows that he must be in town, but he hasn't come to see her. There have been no whispers in school about him and Ellie, but she rarely listens to gossip anyway. The notes haven't changed, they're still impersonal little snippets of the boy she used to know, but she knows when he's been there.

When he finally appears, she feigns shock. She wants to run, throw her arms around him and never let go, but she can't. She doesn't mention the notes, and neither does he.

She finds herself confiding in him when they have moments alone. He asks the questions others are afraid to, and he genuinely wants to know what's going on with her. Every time she admits something, she finds another note with one of his secrets revealed. She finds out that he hasn't been in a fight since the day he left. That he still has nightmares about the boy he killed.

She knows that she can't resist him. He's a reminder that she was once alive. That she used to feel love. That she used to feel hate. All those emotions she feared she'd never feel again come flooding back. The fear she felt when he pushed her. The disappointment she felt when he drank. The happiness she felt when they danced at the Luau. The excitement she felt when they danced at her mom's wedding. The hate she felt when he broke her heart. The sadness she felt when he said goodbye. The love she felt when she looked into his eyes.

* * *

She finds him waiting for her in her bedroom. He's broken in through the window, like he's done a hundred times before. He's holding a note. She takes it from him but doesn't read it. Instead, she sits and indicates for him to sit next to her.

"What does it say, Sean?" she asks.

"It says the same thing all the others said," he replies, taking one of her hands in his and squeezing it.

"Another story?" she smiles.

"Another part of me," he corrects her. "I wanted you to know that even though I was gone, I was still here."

"I needed you to be here so much," she whispers.

"And I needed to be home," he says sadly. "But I couldn't leave you all alone."

"I kept them all," she tells him. "Every single one."

He says nothing, but his hold on her hand tightens slightly.

"Especially this one," she says, pulling out the box and finding her treasured note, she gives it to him.

He knows what it says, without looking at it. "I had a nightmare that night. It was different to the rest. Instead of Rick dying, I dreamt that I couldn't get to him in time, that he'd shot you. I had to drive down here and make sure you were okay. I saw you sleeping, and I couldn't think of anything else to write, except that I missed you."

"The notes kept me going," she tells him, as she reaches up to stroke his cheek.

"Me too," he tells her, his lips curving into an odd smile.

"Tell me what it says, Sean," she asks again.

He opens up the note. "It says, 'I still have that picture of our first date, tucked away in my wallet. It's been everywhere with me. Just like the girl in the photograph.'"

He hands her back the picture she gave him weeks ago. He leans forward, cups her cheek as gently as he can manage with his fumbling, callused hand, and kisses her.

"You can keep this one. I have my own," he tells her.

* * *

She spends hours sitting in the park, watching people walk by. She's no longer alone, as he sits with her. He watches her, watching other people. Every now and again, she looks at him and smiles, and he can't resist kissing her. It's not always sunshine and roses, but that's okay. That's why she loves him. He makes her feel so much, so intensely. She was numb for so long, faking her smiles and her tears that she sometimes antagonises him, just so she can enjoy the passion that flares between them. He knows she's doing it, and he lets her, because he always finishes their 'argument' with a kiss. And she lets him. 


End file.
